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At first listen, the plan seems borderline delusional. After all, asking buyers and planners to forsake must-buys like The New York Times and Newsday in favor of shopping circulars is the kind of request that gets salespeople escorted out of the building by security guards. But two of Tri- State's marketing minions, advertising director Stacie Boering and media consultant Don Andrews, argue their case persuasively.
The company has unearthed the story of M. W. Heron, a bartender in New Orleans who created Southern Comfort in 1874. Brown-Forman is betting that Heron will help consumers develop a greater connection with the brand. The goal is to parlay consumer interest into an increase in sales and a national campaign for Southern Comfort, which Brown-Forman has brought to television for the first time.
For 13 years the worst arson-murder in Dallas history went unsolved. Two years ago, police caught a break and have slowly traced the roots of the intentional act of savagery that killed five children ranging in age from 2 to 18. Dallas Observer Editor Julie Lyons reports that the investigation is turning up a lot of unpleasant memories about the strange culture of violence that once terrorized the south Dallas neighborhood.
Even bringing a Spanish flamenco troupe into the United States these days is a monumental hassle, OC Weekly's Jim Washburn learns. The endless War on Terror could starve American artists of the kind of cultural cross-pollination that brought James Brown to Africa's Fela Kuti and the recharged African rhythms back to artists such as Karl Denson (pictured). "Okay, I don’t mind flying without scissors, and I could get to like taking my shoes off at airport checkpoints. ... But it’s a bad, bad thing when we’re also bringing the steel shutters down on our artistic windows to the world."
Jim Crumley thinks about death. The recent losses -- both after prolonged battles with cancer -- of Missoula writer James Welch and musician Warren Zevon, an old Hollywood running buddy, have hit him hard. But if Crumley -- with nearly 64 years of good, hard living behind him -- is feeling his own mortality, he's not letting on. Not even with chronic gout, not with perpetual back problems (exacerbated by a recent car crash), and not with the mysterious malady that nearly killed him last year. Nick Davis talks to the Missoula author, who contemplates a large life, near-death and the company of a few good friends.
